Page 18

Chapter 18

Malachi

S he left a fucking note on a piece of wood, signaling her direction to us.

Think you can catch me?

Who the fuck does she think we are? Of course, we can catch her. And we will. The bright, shiny blood trail will only help and spur us on more.

“By the looks of it, she slid down here, cutting herself up real good. Too bad. I wanted to make her bleed first,” Dorian mutters aloud.

“How fresh do you think this is?” I ask him, running my finger through the blood to see if it’s still wet.

It’s frozen in place, which isn’t surprising considering the weather. But who knows? She could be just up this hill, bleeding out in the snow for all we know.

“I don’t think it’s fresh because we haven’t exactly been in a hurry or anything. If she went up, she’d get trapped in that overlook without many choices but back down. Going up will be suicide.”

I don’t think he realizes where we are in this jungle of a forest. There is plenty to find if she keeps going up. Help is one of them. We’ve never allowed anyone to get this far in or up, so let’s hope she doesn’t find the cabin that’s up there.

I trudge forward, careful with my steps on the slippery stairs as we ascend the steep hill. I watch the ground for signs of blood and spot a large trail just on the other side of the railing. The smart girl took the rough road the second time around. Wonder what other tricks she’ll have up her sleeve.

“Hey, you got a smoke?” We hear coming from just to our left.

One of the Black family steps out from the trees, strutting toward us with confidence. The front of his sweater is coated in blood, which means he caught his kill already and had plenty of fun with her. He removes his mask, and I see that it’s one of our cousins. He’s got a smug look on his face, and he tosses the mask behind him into the trees.

“Oh, come on. I know you two smoke, and I need one for the trek back. I always need that hit of nicotine after a good kill,” he says.

Dorian laughs, removing his mask and taking out his pack of cigarettes. What a disgusting habit. Dude obviously doesn’t know us well enough if he thinks I do that shit, but Dorian is a grown man, and if he wants to be a gross fuck, then so be it.

I lean against the railing behind me and listen as the other two bicker back and forth about how we haven’t caught our mark yet, blah blah blah. Whatever. I’m ready to get this shit done and over with, but Dorian wants to let her think she’ll get away. Wants her to think that she’ll survive before snatching her up and snuffing her out.

Yes, this whole thing is a game. But I think he’s taking it a step too far with Raven. She’s out here to please us and then bleed for us. Nothing more. So why are we playing this game like this? I’ll have to ask him after this whole fucking thing is done.

“Dorian, if you’re done chatting with the family, maybe we can get back to it and get this night over with. I’m fucking freezing and tired of the bullshit already,” I spit out, moving to continue up the stairs.

“We’ll continue when I say we do. Until then, chill the fuck out and enjoy the fresh air.”

I smack his hand away from where it’s now resting on my shoulder, ultimately making him drop his cigarette. He huffs when he realizes it and turns and swings. His fist connects with the side of my head, whipping it to the side and almost knocking my mask off and into the snow. I struggle for a moment to get my bearings straight, and when I look back at him, he has a smug look, like he’s happy about what he just did.

“Fuck you, Dorian,” I spit out, turning on my heel and heading for the top of the hill.

If he wants to continue to be an asshole like that and waste time, then I will trudge ahead and find our little death angel. I’m not waiting for his signal anymore.

Fuck him.

When I get to the top of the staircase, I look around for signs of Raven in the snow. Not sure who exactly was through here, but someone took off in the direction of the next clearing. Which means she will stumble upon Grandpa Black. She won't like being in his presence on a night like tonight. Especially dressed the way she is.

Climbing over the railing to the overlook, I trudge through the snow and follow her footsteps. I can still see drops of blood here and there the further I get into the trees. I wonder where she cut herself. Maybe it’s on the back of her juicy thighs. Or that picture-perfect round ass of hers.

Oh, fuck me.

The thought of her tip-toeing through the snow, barefoot, with her ass peering out the bottom of that little skirt. Blood dripping down her ass and legs and onto the cold earth below. The look on her face as she makes her way through the knee-high snow. Her tits bouncing with every step. Or how her nipples have to be peaked to perfection under those pasties Dorian got for her. I bet the metal barbells are causing some real pain in this cold.

Snapping back to reality with a dick hard as a rock, I see that I’ve made it to the clearing, and the disturbance in the snow leads right up to Grandpa Black’s cabin. This old fuck has been holed up here for years since he was disowned by the family for the sick things he’s done. Fucker is a cannibal, and while the rest of us have all done some seriously questionable deeds, that is over the line.

I tentatively step onto the sagging porch and look around. There is no noise coming from inside, and the storm swallows up anything from outside. There also isn’t any sign of anyone leaving the porch and going in a different direction, so she must be inside. Raising my fist, I knock on the door three times and wait. There’s some scurrying around inside, and then the door swings open, showing a darkened space.

“Grandpa?”